


The Dharma Years: 1975

by bayloriffic



Series: The Dharma Years [2]
Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Missing Scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bayloriffic/pseuds/bayloriffic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their second year with the Dharma Initiative actually starts out pretty damn good, all things considered. After all the shit he and Juliet went through the past couple of months, Sawyer's still a little wary, waiting for things to fall apart again, but everything's running smoothly. </p><p>(Life with the Dharma Initiative, 1975.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dharma Years: 1975

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on LJ in July 2010.

** January 1975 **

Their second year with the Dharma Initiative actually starts out pretty damn good, all things considered. After all the shit he and Juliet went through the past couple of months, Sawyer's still a little wary, waiting for things to fall apart again, but everything's running smoothly. 

After just a few weeks, he finally figures he should maybe just relax and go with it. That weird tension that hung between them all last year is gone and Juliet’s stopped looking at him in that guarded way she has, like she’s expecting him to walk away at any second. Everything's just really comfortable and normal, and if it ain't the most exciting time in Sawyer's life, well, it’s still about a million times better than anything he could have ever hoped for. 

And, sure, Sawyer’s taken to spending most of his time grinning like a complete moron, but he figures that ain't the worst thing in the world. Hell, if anything, it just makes him fit in even better with all the other Dharma idiots he's surrounded by. 

*

It’s Sawyer’s birthday before he even realizes it, the day sneaking up on him like it does every year. Even though he hasn’t actually celebrated it since he was eight years old, and doesn't plan on starting up again any time soon, it’s a damn hard thing to forget. 

He doesn’t actually expect Juliet to do anything, considering that last year it passed without any acknowledgement and this year she hasn’t said anything about it. Hell, he doubts she even knows when it is. Ain’t like she necessarily memorized his whole damn file when she had a chance, back when he was just another hostage locked in a cage. 

But when he gets home from the security station that night—the night he’s turning either thirty-seven or seven, depending on which one of him you’re talking about—she’s in the kitchen finishing up cooking dinner and there’s a cake with seven lit candles on it, sitting on the counter next to the stove. 

“Hey,” he says, leaning against the wall and trying to decide how he feels about this whole turn of events. 

Juliet turns around and smiles at him, looking pretty damn pleased with herself. “Hey yourself,” she says, picking up the cake and carrying it over to the table, being super-careful not to drip too much wax onto the frosting. “Happy Birthday, James.”

He walks over to stand next to her at the table, close enough so he can feel her hip pressed against his. 

The cake looks perfect, about a million times better than the sorry-ass cake he made for her birthday last year and the two of them just stare at it for a little while, the candles burning down more and more by the second.

Eventually, Juliet bumps her shoulder against his. “Make a wish, James,” she says, like she can’t believe she’s having to explain this whole process to him. 

He rolls his eyes at her, like this is the dumbest thing he’s ever had to do. But he’s smiling at her, so he doubts she buys it. 

The problem is, he ain’t got a clue what to wish for. He closes his eyes and tries to think of something good. But the only thing that comes to mind is that he wishes the two of them can stay like this forever. Which, that’s a stupid thing to wish, he knows, since they both want to get back to when they belong. He opens his eyes with the candles still burning, and Juliet looks over at him, her forehead creased with worry.

“Everything okay?” she asks, and he can’t believe he’s being such a psycho about this. It’s just a damn birthday cake. So he smiles at her and nods, closing his eyes again and leaning back over the cake. 

He takes a deep breath and blows out the candles, just let everything be just like this running over and over again through his head. When he opens his eyes, he feels kind of stupid, but the candles are all out and Juliet’s beaming at him. 

“Did you make a wish?” she asks, like it’s really important that he did. 

“Yeah,” he nods, for some reason hoping like hell that she’s not gonna ask him what he wished for. 

But, “good,” is all she says, sounding satisfied and bumping her hip against his. She walks over to the cabinet and starts pulling down some plates.

“So how come you didn’t do nothin’ for my birthday last year?” he asks, trying to sound hurt, but he’s grinning pretty wide, so he doubts he’s pulling it off.

Juliet just shrugs and starts plucking the candles out of the cake, licking the frosting off the bottom of each one in a way that’s completely distracting. “We weren’t together last year.”

“So, what?” he asks, staring at her mouth. There’s a little bit of chocolate stuck to her lower lip. “You only celebrate the birthdays of people you’re sleeping with?”

“Pretty much,” she says, smiling brightly at him and kind of sucking on the bottom of the last candle, her tongue flicking out to get the frosting on her lip. 

Sawyer shifts and, shit, she really needs to stop doing that if she actually wants to eat this damn cake sometime tonight. Juliet looks up at him, the candle still in her mouth, her eyes darkening when she sees how he’s looking at her.

She doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at him as she slides the candle out of her mouth and sets it on a napkin on the table. Sawyer moves a step closer to her, standing so that there’s no space at all between them. He leans down and kisses her neck, right below her ear, and she gasps. 

“The food’s going to get cold,” she says, pressing her hips against his. As protests go, it’s pretty weak, and when he kisses her, she kisses him back with no hesitation, sliding her tongue into his mouth, thoughts of dinner apparently not first and foremost on her mind.

“Hmmm,” he says against her mouth and reaches down to lift her up so she can wrap her legs around him. He carries her back to their bedroom like that, kissing her the whole time, tasting the chocolate on her tongue. 

Juliet keeps shifting against him, pressing her hips into his, and it’s pretty much the most amazing feeling ever. If he’d known birthdays would be like this, he would have started celebrating them a hell of a lot sooner.

She’s managed to unzip his jumpsuit and get him half-naked by the time they make it to their bed. Sawyer positions them so she’s kneeling on top of him, her hands moving over his chest in delicate patterns that are driving him fucking insane.

He’s got her shirt off, tracing the lines of her collarbone with his tongue, when someone starts knocking hard on their front door. Sawyer ignores it for as long as he can, but whoever the hell it is is really fucking insistent. 

“James,” Juliet says, pushing on his shoulder a little. He rests his head against her chest for a second. 

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters, sitting up and grabbing his clothes off the floor. He trips when he puts on his jeans and Juliet laughs a little from the bed, where she’s still laying, naked. He swears to God he’s gonna kill whoever’s pounding on their door.

But when he opens the door, Miles and Jin are standing there grinning at him, a six-pack topped with a sloppy red bow tied to the top dangling from Miles's hand. 

“Happy Birthday, man,” he says, giving Sawyer a light slap on the back and handing him the beer. 

Sawyer takes it from him, and doesn't say anything. He thinks about Juliet laying naked back in their bed and feels like his night just got ruined.

"How the hell'd you guys know it was my birthday?" he finally manages, stepping aside to let them in. Miles grabs the beer back from him on his way inside, carrying it in to the kitchen. 

"Juliet told us," Jin says, smiling at Sawyer like the three of them pulled one over on him.

Sawyer just shakes his head, because of course she did. “What, you didn’t get me nothin’?” he asks Jin sarcastically, closing the door a little harder than necessary.

Jin opens his mouth to respond, but then Miles calls out from the kitchen. “He’s taking your early shift tomorrow morning, dude. Gets to spend the whole morning with that asshole, Phil.”

Sawyer looks at Jin, surprised. If anyone hates Phil more than Sawyer it’s definitely Jin. 

But Jin’s just smiling back at him, like it’s no big deal. “Happy Birthday, James,” he says in that slightly formal way of his, brushing past him to follow Miles into the kitchen.

Sawyer just kind of stares after him, not really knowing what to say. He’s still just standing there like an idiot a few seconds later when Juliet walks out of their bedroom, fully dressed, not a hair out of place. 

“What the hell are they doing here?” he asks her when she’s within whispering distance. In the kitchen, Miles his helping himself to one of the birthday beers he just brought over, popping the tab on one and handing another to Jin.

“They’re your friends, James,” she says, like that should be completely obvious. 

“Hey, did you guys already do the candles?” Miles calls from the kitchen, sounding kind of hurt. "That's my favorite part." 

Sawyer rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the table, moving the remaining beers away from Miles. 

“Christ, Banzai,” he says. “Don’t sound so fucking disappointed.” Miles shoots him a dirty look and Sawyer claps him on the shoulder, smiling a little despite himself. “Besides we ain’t eaten any of it yet, so. Stop being such a goddamn baby.”

“Whatever, man,” Miles says, rolling his eyes and elbowing Sawyer lightly in the ribs. 

On the other side of the kitchen, Juliet’s hugging Jin hello, the two of them talking to each other in low voices. When she sees Sawyer looking at her, she smiles and winks at him and he gets this warm feeling in his chest, this kind of deep-down happiness, and he thinks that maybe Jin and Miles coming over won’t totally ruin his birthday, after all. 

** 

** February **

No one’s heard from Daniel Faraday in more than a year, so when he shows up one sunny Friday afternoon, fresh off the sub and dressed in a gray Dharma jumpsuit, Sawyer’s really fucking surprised. 

He’d pretty much forgotten about the guy, truth be told, figured he’d ended up in the nut house, god knows where, mourning his pretty little redhead and mumbling to himself about physics and time travel and all that other shit he was always carrying on about. 

For the first few days, no one can really figure out what he’s doing there. He sleeps on Miles’s and Jin’s couch and joins in on their Saturday night poker game and basically just acts like he hasn’t been missing for the past year. Sawyer doesn’t like it. 

Dan’s been working over with Radzinsky at the science station, the two of them spending hours and hours holed up in there together, being all secretive and squirrelly about whatever it is they’re doing. 

When the two of them show up one morning at the security station, Horace trailing behind them and looking apologetic, Sawyer gets a bad feeling in his stomach. 

Turns out they’re finally ready to share their top secret plans with him, and the four of them end up driving out into the jungle in one of the jeeps.

They’re almost all the way on the other side of the island before Sawyer finally figures out where they’re going, this horrible knot in his stomach.

*

When they pull up to the empty patch of jungle that’s one day going to be the Swan station, Sawyer can’t do much but stare dumbly around at the trees and rotting leaves and the endless expanse of jungle in front of him. 

It's only a few minutes before Radzinsky starts babbling on about new security measures and the important research he’s going to be carrying on. Once he finally shuts up, it’s Dan’s turn to start talking and Sawyer just stands there, listening as he talks about electromagnetic energy and the unique features of the island. Sawyer don’t really understand much of what he’s saying, truth be told, but he guesses it’s probably pretty important since Faraday keeps staring right at him as he talks. 

Even so, it’s hard for him to concentrate on anything besides the empty ground at his feet. Being out here now—listening to these guys talk about how when construction’s going to start, what kind of security measures are going to need to be put in place, what this will mean for the future of the Dharma Initiative—it almost makes Sawyer’s head hurt. 

If only John Locke could see him now, he thinks to himself a little ruefully. He shakes his head and tries to focus on what Horace is saying about the timeline for the project’s completion, not worry so much about how this is going to affect him thirty years down the road. 

After a few hours of discussing and surveying and trying to figure out the best places to drill, they’re all ready to head back, so they pile back into the jeep, Sawyer stuck in the back with Faraday. 

They’re about halfway to the barracks when Dan nudges him with his elbow. “We need to talk,” he whispers desperately, looking furtively at the two men in the front seat to make sure they can’t hear him.

“So talk,” Sawyer whispers back, annoyed. 

“You heard what I said about the electromagnetic energy, right?” Dan asks, so low that Sawyer has to lean in to hear him over the sound of the wind whipping through the jeep’s open top.

“Yeah, so what?”

“So that’s how we’re going to get out of here,” Dan says. Sawyer just looks over at him because he definitely didn’t get that from what he was saying out in the jungle.

“What the hell does that mean?” he says, his voice rising a little. Daniel shoots a worried glance at the front seat, but neither Horace or Radzinsky turn around, so Sawyer figures they’re probably okay.

“What Locke did to stop the flashes,” Dan tells him, “he only could do because of that energy. Right now, there’s no way for us to access that. But once the Swan gets built, it will expose the source of the energy and that energy—that energy is our best chance of getting out of here.”

“So what?” Sawyer says. “We just build the Swan, find some magic energy, and presto, we ain’t stuck in the ‘70s no more.”

“Not exactly,” Faraday sighs, like having to explain this to Sawyer is just completely exhausting. Which, whatever, it ain’t like Sawyer’s a fucking physicist so it’s not exactly his fault none of this makes any sense. “I need to locate the energy, but I still haven’t figured out how to harness it, or exactly what will happen when I do.” 

“Fantastic,” Sawyer snaps. “How the hell long’s it gonna take you to figure that out?”

“Well, James, seeing as how the Swan won’t be built for another two years,” he tells him, “I’ve got plenty of time to work on that.”

*

When he gets home, Juliet’s still at the motor pool, so he strips off his clothes and heads for the shower, turning up the water so it’s super-hot and feeling his body finally relax. He closes his eyes and turns his face up to the spray, trying to figure out how he should tell Juliet about what happened, knowing this isn't something he's going to be able to keep from her, no matter how bad he wants to.

By the time she gets home, he’s out of the shower and in the kitchen making sandwiches for dinner.

After she kicks her boots off, she walks up to him and smiles, kissing him gently on the cheek and leaning her head on his shoulder. 

Sawyer kisses the top of her head and hands her one of the sandwiches. He figures the whole Daniel Faraday discussion can wait until after they both have something to eat.

It’s late by the time Sawyer finally decides telling her about the hatch can’t wait any longer, that it’s now or never. He guesses he’s been acting kind of strange all night, since Juliet keeps asking him if he’s okay. By the third time, he sighs and puts down the book he’s been unsuccessfully trying to read. 

“You want to take a walk or something, Blondie?” he says, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Sure,” she says. She sounds kind of surprised and maybe a little worried, but she smiles at him anyway. 

They end up heading in the direction of the bay, the two of them walking close enough together so that their shoulders keep bumping.

When they finally make it to the dock, the sub's there and this intense feeling of déjà vu sweeps over him. He can’t help thinking about being out here in this exact spot with her a year ago, that desperation he felt at the thought of her leaving him here alone.

They walk to the edge of the dock, their footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet night. When they get to the end, they sit down next to each other, their sides pressed together, the warmth of Juliet's body making Sawyer feel a little less tense. 

“They’re starting construction on the Swan station next month,” he says after a few minutes. He didn’t mean to start out quite so bluntly, but he figures they might as well get right to it. 

“The hatch?” Juliet asks, sounding confused.

“Yeah.” He sighs and rubs a hand across his face, feeling exhausted. “Faraday thinks he’ll be able to get us back to the right time once it’s built.” 

Juliet looks over at him. Her eyes are a little wide, but other than that her expression barely changes. “Oh,” is all she says, glancing over her shoulder quickly to look at the sub. 

“Something about electromagnetic energy or some damn thing,” Sawyer says, scrubbing a hand across his forehead. Juliet looks over at him and smiles a little at that, like she can’t believe their life, even after all this time. Sawyer knows how she feels. 

“How long until it’s built?” she asks, and Sawyer gets this sinking feeling in his stomach, like he’s just now realizing that this is the part he was dreading.

“Two years,” he says, staring out at the dark water. 

“Two years,” Juliet repeats quietly. And the ways she says it—two years sounding an awful lot like two weeks to him—makes intense feeling surge through him, like his heart is beating too fast. “That’s a long time.” 

She doesn’t say anything else after that, just leans back so she’s laying on the dock, one arm pillowed behind her head. After a few minutes, he lays down next to her, both of them staring up at the star-filled sky. 

“Whoa,” he says, because he’s not sure he’s ever really noticed how many stars there are. But out here in the dark, away from the lights of the barracks and the canopy of trees in the jungle, it’s like there are millions and millions of them. Sawyer wishes he knew some constellations. He bets he could see every damn one of them from here.

“This was one of my favorite things about the island,” Juliet says after a few minutes. “When I first got here.” She sounds kind of wistful and happy, not angry or miserable like she normally does when she talks about the island. “Living in Miami, I’d never seen anything like it.”

“They don’t got stars in Miami?” he asks, turning his head to look at her. She rolls her eyes like she does when she’s pretending to be annoyed with him. He smiles. 

“They’ve got light pollution in Miami,” she tells him. The corner of her mouth is curved up a little, and her face looks soft and pale in the dim light of the dock. 

Sawyer doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching her, the dock scratchy under his cheek. After a few seconds, she must feel his eyes on her because she turns so that she’s looking right at him. 

“What about you?” she says, one eyebrow quirked up a little higher than the other. “Lots of stars where you’re from?”

And something about the way she says it, like she’s got no idea where he’s from even though she’s probably seen a copy of his goddamn birth certificate, like she’s really interested in what his life was like before even though none of that actually matters anymore, makes his chest feel kind of tight. 

“Hell yeah,” he says, smirking at her and trying to sound flippant. “Stars fell on Alabama and all that shit.” 

She grins at him then, this smile that kind of lights up her whole face, and he guesses maybe this thing with Faraday isn’t going to be as big a deal as he thought. He smiles back at her and she moves so that her head is resting on his chest.

The two of them stay out there like that for a while longer, just staring up at the starlit sky until the hard, splintery wood of the dock starts to make their backs ache.

**

** March **

Faraday only sticks around for another month. After that he's back on the sub, headed to Ann Arbor to do whatever the hell it is he does over there.

After he leaves, things pretty much go back to normal. Sawyer’s got to start planning for security for the Swan site—Radzinsky’s being a pain in the ass about making sure the damn thing is staffed 24/7, even though it ain’t even a hole in the ground yet—but he and Juliet don’t really talk about it. 

Sawyer knows that maybe they should. Dan’s plan is as good as they’re ever gonna get to figuring out how the hell to get back to the right time. The thing is, though, it’s just so damn vague that putting too much stock in it probably ain’t gonna lead to nothing but disappointment.

In two years, the hatch will be built and Faraday might be able to flash them back to the right time. Or he might not. Hell, he might get hit by a bus next week and none of this will matter anyway. 

Sawyer tells himself it’s best not to think too much about it, just take that whole whatever happened, happened shit to heart, keep looking for their people, and get on with their lives.

So that’s what they do, him and Juliet. They don’t talk about Faraday or the hatch or the possibility that they might be able to save themselves. 

Besides, more and more, Sawyer’s starting to wonder why the hell he’s tryin’ so hard to get back to a place he never seemed to belong.

*

Even though Sawyer tries to avoid having too much to do with the Swan project, he gets stuck practically running the damn thing for a week while Horace takes a trip to Tahiti, for some damn reason he's not willing to share until he gets back to the island.

When he does get back, the man can hardly contain himself, showing up at the security station and pulling Sawyer aside right in the middle of a shift. Sawyer just stares at him while Horace takes a little black box out of his pocket, smiling like an idiot the whole. Sawyer's got no idea what's going on, but when he looks down, Horace is holding a ring. A shiny gold one, with a great big diamond in the middle.

“What do you think?” Horace asks. It takes Sawyer a second to figure out what he means. That it's an engagement for Amy. Sawyer ain't quite sure why Horace is sharing this with him, but he figures he should answer and not just stand there gawking like a moron.

“Uh,” Sawyer says, squinting and leaning over to look at the ring more closely. “It’s real nice, chief.” 

He glances up and Horace has this stupid grin on his face. “Think Amy’s going to say yes?” he asks, sounding kind of nervous. 

Sawyer resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, shaking his head. “Yeah, boss. I think she’ll say yes.”

*

Sawyer doesn’t even think about telling Juliet about the ring until later that night. The two of them are in bed, Sawyer laying with his face pressed up against Juliet’s neck, her skin smelling clean and sweet from the shower she just took, when the phone starts ringing. 

“Fuuuuck,” he says, rolling away from Juliet and pulling a pillow over his head. Being the Head of Security can be a goddamn pain in the ass sometimes.

Juliet ignores him and reaches for the phone. Sawyer waits for her to hand him the receiver, bracing himself for dealing with whatever bullshit he's gonna have to deal with, but Juliet keeps the phone, talking to whoever it is for a few minutes. Sawyer can tell she’s smiling from the sound of her voice, so he pulls the pillow off of him and watches her. She’s grinning when she finally hangs up.

“Who was that?” he asks, curious despite himself. 

“Amy,” she says. “She and Horace apparently just got engaged.” 

“Yeah,” Sawyer sighs and clicks off the lamp on his side of the bed. “I figured she’d say yes.” 

Juliet reaches over him to turn the light back on. “Wait a second,” she says, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him. “You knew about this?” 

He just nods. He’s exhausted and he’s got an early shift in the morning and the last thing he wants to talk about is Horace’s damn romantic entanglements.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” she says, slapping him lightly on the chest with the back of her hand. 

“Hell, Blondie, I figured it was none of our business,” he says, moving on to his side and readjusting the pillow under his head. “Besides, it’s probably just going to be a disaster anyway. Figured we should stay out of it.” 

“Why do you think it’ll be a disaster?” she asks, sounding legitimately curious. 

“Just seems like it will be,” he says, keeping his eyes closed. “Amy’s husband’s been dead what? A year. Just don’t seem like enough time to get over someone is all.” Juliet doesn’t say anything, and he keeps talking. “You ask me, the two of them are lyin’ to themselves, thinkin’ it’s gonna work out okay.” 

Juliet still hasn’t said anything, but he can feel her body go tense next to him. He opens his eyes and she’s laying on her back and staring blankly at the ceiling, that expressionless look on her face that means she’s really upset. 

“You okay?” he asks and she just shrugs, her shoulders barely moving under the sheet. It takes a few seconds for him to figure out what’s going on and, shit. “Hey, Blondie,” he says, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean…I mean, that ain’t you and…that’s just them, Juliet.” 

She blinks at him.

Fuck. He just wishes like hell that he weren’t so bad at this, that he could figure out how to say the right thing without it sounding like a lie.

She’s turned so she’s facing him again, looking at him kind of blankly, closed off like she gets whenever she’s decided she’s letting him in too much and, goddamn it. That’s not what he was talking about.

After a few seconds of him not saying anything, she rolls back onto her back, eyes focused on the ceiling.

The thing is, he thought they were past all this. And, yeah, they ain’t ever actually talked about any of this, but after New Year’s he figured everything between them was good, that things were better, that she knows he loves her. Sawyer moves the covers out of the way so he can press his body against hers, draping his arm around her waist. 

“Hey,” he says, waiting until she turns her head to look at him. 

He kisses her lightly on the corner of the mouth, taking his time, keeping his lips brushing up against hers. “You know I love you, right?” he tells her, because he doesn’t really know what else to say. 

Her face isn’t closed off anymore, instead looks kind of open and vulnerable, in this way that makes his chest feel really tight, like she trusts him but doesn’t actually expect him to do anything but break her heart. 

She’s quiet for a few seconds, pulling back a little to look at him, searching his face, like maybe she doesn’t believe him. Finally, she sighs and gives him a soft smile, turning to stare back up at the ceiling. 

“Yeah,” she says, sounding kind of sad and relieved all at once. Her smile's gone kind of crooked. “Yeah, I know.”

**

** April **

Once everyone finds out about the engagement, it’s all anyone can talk about. Everywhere Sawyer turns people are talking about where Horace and Amy should go on their honeymoon, who’s gonna perform the ceremony, what colors they should use for decorating the goddamn rec room for the reception. Sawyer just wants the damn thing to be over and done with as quick as possible. Especially since once they’re finally hitched people will finally shut the fuck up about honeymoons and wedding plans and all kinds of other shit that makes him nervous.

Lucky for Sawyer, Amy and Horace don’t waste any time getting married, their whole engagement lasting less than a month. 

The ceremony itself is short and sweet, too. It's not even all that bad, but Sawyer still has to bite down on the inside of his cheek so that he doesn’t make an endless stream of snide remarks to Juliet throughout the whole thing.

Plus, other than the whole wedding aspect of the thing, Sawyer’s not having the worst time of his life. Sure, he has to wear a goddamn suit, which fucking sucks, but Juliet’s wearing this really pretty blue dress, one that matches her eyes and shows off her legs, so. Everything kind of balances out as far as clothes are concerned. 

He can’t take his eyes off her, truth be told. He’d be embarrassed that she keeps catching him staring at her, but it distracts him from having to listen to the ridiculous vows Horace and Amy have written for each other, so. 

Besides, Juliet keeps smiling throughout the ceremony and it’s the happiest he’s seen her look in weeks. All in all, it’s not the worst afternoon he’s ever spent on this island. 

Once the ceremony’s over—everyone clapping and cheering as Horace and Amy walk down the aisle, holding hands and grinning at each other like loons—they all head over to the rec room for the reception. Sawyer’s expecting this part to be just as stupid as the last, but it’s actually surprising, how much fun he ends up having. Although, there is what seems to be an unlimited supply of free booze, so maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised after all. 

Sawyer drinks a lot. A lot, a lot. Way more than he has since, well. He’s not really sure. But it’s been a damn long time, he knows that. He gets drunk enough to dance, pulling Juliet out onto the dance floor with him and holding her close, their bodies pressed together from their shoulders all the way down to their hips. 

It’s dark by the time Juliet threads her fingers through his and pulls him close enough to whisper, “Take me home,” against his ear, her breath warm and sweet. 

When they make it back to their house, they stumble into their bedroom, Juliet tripping a little on her high heels, and he reaches over, groping for the light switch. 

When the light comes on, Juliet pulls back a little blinking against the sudden brightness. 

“James,” she says, her voice like a sigh. He doesn’t get a chance to hear what she’s going to say after that because he’s kissing her again, sliding his tongue inside her mouth, moving his hands up under her dress, touching the warm, smooth skin on her thighs. 

When he presses himself against her—hard and insistent—she gasps against his mouth and bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, not sounding sorry at all, and he licks at the blood on his lip, the coppery, sharp taste filling his mouth. 

She’s somehow managed to get his shirt and tie off, running her hands over his bare chest and he figures he should probably return the favor, reaching back to unzip her dress, pushing it off her shoulders so he can touch her in as many places as possible. 

It’s almost painfully bright in the room, the overhead light making Juliet’s skin glow bright and radiant, like gold. His head’s still kind of fuzzy from the alcohol, and everything feels so unreal and intense, like the most amazing kind of dream.

Juliet's still got her shoes on, the high heels making them the same height when he presses her against the wall, holding her wrists tight in his fists.

He says her name when he slides inside of her and she inhales sharply, resting her forehead against his. He feels like he's never going to get close enough to her, even though their hipbones are grinding together hard enough that he thinks he's probably going to have bruises there tomorrow.

When she starts shuddering all around him, it's like sensory overload and he closes his eyes, trying to make it last as long as possible. He digs his fingers into her hip and she just feels so, so amazing.

When he opens his eyes, she's staring right back at him, her eyes bright and clear and amazingly blue. Looking at her like that is just too much for him, so he shifts his gaze, sees his fingers threaded through Juliet’s blonde, blonde hair, how it looks so soft and pale against his calloused skin, and, Christ, it’s just. 

Sawyer closes his eyes again, concentrating on how she feels against his, remembering how she looked in that blue dress, the way she smiled at him all afternoon, how she kept holding his hand all through the reception, and his breath hitches in his chest and he’s coming, hips jerking against hers erratically. 

It takes a little while before he's able to carry her over to the bed. His whole body feels relaxed and boneless and his head is still kind of cloudy from whatever he drank earlier.

He keeps running his hands through Juliet's hair, even though she's gone boneless and limp next to him, like she's already passed out. He feels like he should say something to her—something about how pretty she looked today, how amazing she is, how great she feels pressed up against him like this—something that will make her know he knows how lucky he is that she's with him. 

“Juliet,” he whispers, worried she’s already fallen asleep. But she opens her eyes, looking right at him in that way she has, like he’s the only thing in her whole world. And, fuck, he can’t even think of what he wants to say anymore, this feeling hitting him like this is all just too much, more than he ever really expected, way more than he really deserves. He feels his breath catch in his throat. 

“I love you,” he says and she smiles at him like it’s the first time, like she can never hear it enough, and he wonders what he’s going to have to do to really make her believe him. 

“I love you, too,” she says. Her head is pressed against his chest and he wonders how loud his heartbeat sounds to her. She sighs and he runs his hand lightly down her back, feeling the ridges of her spine, the way she fits so perfect when she’s pressed up against him. 

**

 **May**

Back in his other life, Sawyer had a six-month cut-off for long cons. Up until he came to this island, six months was the longest he’d ever been with any one person.

He’s been with Juliet a year.

She hasn’t said anything to him about their anniversary, and the truth is he’s kind of embarrassed he even realizes it is their anniversary, but once he does realize it, he can’t get it out of his head. 

It’s just—a year’s a hell of a long time, and Sawyer figures maybe he should do something nice for her. He thinks on it for weeks, trying to decide how to handle the whole thing. He considers getting her a present, but he’s already still got her birthday and Christmas to deal with, and coming up with another damn gift is just too goddamn stressful. By the time he finally figures out what he wants to do, the month’s almost over. 

There’s this really amazing spot out in the jungle, all the way out near the Swan. He’s passed it a few times on his weekly treks out there and he figures he can take her out that way, maybe do a kind of romantic picnic thing or something. It takes him a while, but he finds an old ratty-looking picnic basket buried in one of the rec room supply closets and sets out planning a whole afternoon for the two of them, with sandwiches and wine. The whole nine yards.

By the time he finally gets everything sorted out and set up, he’s feeling pretty damn pleased with himself.

*

“It’s our anniversary this month,” he says to her one night, when they’re both sitting on the couch reading. He tries to sound nonchalant, but he probably doesn’t pull it off, considering how she looks at him, the corner of her mouth turning up in that way it does when he says something she finds particularly amusing. 

“Oh yeah,” she says, and something about the way she says it makes him think that she’s been expecting him to bring it up. She glances down at the book in her lap—an old dog-eared copy of _Anne of Green Gables_ that she must have read at least five times by now—pretending to be all casual, but she’s still kind of smiling at him and he knows she’s happy about it.

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug, still trying to work the nonchalant angle. “I thought maybe we could do something.”

“Well, that sounds vague,” she says, looking up at from her book and giving him a full-blown smile. “You have something particular in mind?”

“Maybe,” he says, trying his damnedest not to grin at her like a complete moron. She raises an eyebrow at him. “First thing tomorrow mornin’,” he tells her sternly, pointing a finger in her direction. “Be ready.” 

She gives him a little salute, three fingers touching her forehead, before she focuses her attention back on her book, and he’s pretty sure he’s never going to stop smiling.

* 

They don’t actually leave until mid-morning, almost an hour later than his original plan. Not that he’s complaining, since the whole reason they’re late is because Juliet spent most of the morning naked underneath him, but still. He was hoping they could get moving before it got too unbearably hot out. 

When he grabs the picnic basket from out of the fridge, Juliet just grins at him and he swears to God he can almost feel himself blushing. He rolls his eyes and her and leads her outside, hoping like hell that everything goes smoothly today.

The walk out there takes a lot longer than he figured, and after about an hour Juliet’s starting to get kind of short with him, cranky because of the heat. 

“You know there’s a whole fleet of jeeps just sitting over at the garages,” she says, like he’s an idiot who didn’t realize they could have just driven wherever they’re going instead of walking. And, yeah, maybe that would have been the smart thing to do—borrow a jeep instead of walking five miles through the jungle—but it’s a little late for that, and her bitching sure ain’t gonna make this walk go any faster. 

“I wanted this to be a surprise,” he snaps at her. “Thought it’d be fuckin’ romantic.” 

“Oh yeah,” she mutters, swatting a low-hanging branch out of the way. “Nothing more romantic than getting heat stroke in the middle of the jungle.” 

“You could cut me some slack,” he says, stopping right where he is. “Seein’ as how I’m tryin’ to do something nice for you.” 

She doesn’t respond, just keeps walking, brushing past him, and slapping at a mosquito that’s buzzing around her neck. 

“Besides,” he says, staring at her back and getting really fucking annoyed. She doesn’t even know where they’re going, for Christ’s sake, but she keeps going anyway. “It ain’t like I’m a goddamn anniversary expert. Considerin’ how this is my first one and all.”

Juliet hesitates at that, looking back at him and tilting her head, her face softening a little. She walks back over to where he is, reaching out and putting her hand gently against the side of his face. “I know,” she says, sounding sincere. “I’m sorry. Thank you for…whatever it is that we’re going to be doing, James.”

Sawyer knows she’s trying to make him feel better but, Christ, she’s right. This is fucking ridiculous and he should have totally thought it through a little more since he thinks there might be a real chance they both end up passing out in the heat. There’s sweat dripping down her face, and she looks exhausted and miserable, like she did those couple of days when they were flashing through time and didn’t know when they were or where they were or what was happening to them. Plus, the fucking picnic basket is heavy as shit and his arms are starting to get tired from carrying the damn thing. 

They keep moving, deeper and deeper into the jungle and, after another agonizingly hot hour, they finally make it to where they’re going. 

They step out of the jungle into a clearing, to this really amazing spot he found back when he was plotting out paths between the barracks and the Swan site. There’s a lagoon and a waterfall and caves and some kind of brightly colored flowers growing all over everything. When he looks over at Juliet, she’s smiling like she’s a kid at Christmas and he knows this was a good idea. 

“So,” Sawyer says, setting down the basket and smiling at her. “Wanna go for a swim?”

She smiles at him and then kind of hesitates for a second. “James,” she says, like she’s just now realizing that something’s not quite adding up. “Why didn’t you tell me to bring a bathing suit?”

He just smirks at her and she rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t seem annoyed or anything. She reaches down to grab the hem of her shirt, pulling it off in a quick motion. When she looks up and catches him staring, she smiles innocently at him and pushes her jeans down over her hips and, shit, he loves her. 

He’s still standing there gawking at her when she dives gracefully into the water, and he clumsily strips off his clothes, tripping a little on his jeans. When he dives in behind her, she swims just out of his reach, smiling at him, her hair gold and sparkling in the sunlight. 

When he finally catches up to her, he puts his hands on her hips and she wraps her legs around him. The water’s moving between them, making her feel so light and slick against him that it’s kind of driving him crazy. She’s kind of clinging to him and he half-swims them over to one the rock walls, moving so his back is pressed against the stones. Juliet’s legs are still wrapped around him and the water is making everything just so, so wet and he slides into her with hardly any effort at all, burying his face in the crook of her neck and making a low moaning noise that kind of echoes all around them. 

She gasps against his ear, making these low, soft sounds of pleasure and they’re rocking against each other and the water’s flowing all around them, and he stares right into her blue, blue eyes and nothing in his life has ever felt as good as this does, right this second. 

They spend most of the afternoon in the water, swimming and laughing and goofing off like a couple of kids. Juliet hasn’t stopped smiling since she first saw this place and Sawyer’s just really, really pleased with himself. This was a way better idea than getting her some stupid present. 

After a few hours, dark clouds roll in out of nowhere and suddenly rain starts to pour down, lightning splitting the sky. They get out of the water as quick as they can, throwing their soaking wet clothes back on and taking shelter in a nearby cave. 

They wait out the storm in the cave, eating sandwiches and drinking warm wine out of white paper cups printed with the Dharma logo. 

By the time the rain starts to let up, they’ve finished the wine and Sawyer’s feeling relaxed and happy, thrilled that this whole thing worked out so great. 

It’s getting kind of late, and Sawyer knows they should probably head back soon, when all of a sudden he hears the familiar mechanical ticking sounds from somewhere nearby. Juliet’s eyes go wide and she gets this look of complete terror on her face and they’re miles and miles from any safe spot, any place they could hide behind the fence. 

The sounds are getting closer and louder and faster and, Juliet’s just sitting there, staring out into the jungle, like she ain’t got a clue what’s going on. 

Sawyer reaches out and grabs her hand, dragging her farther back into the cave. He presses his body up against hers, trying to shield her, even though he knows it’s completely pointless. If whatever that thing is wants to get them, it ain’t gonna give up just because he’s standing in front of her. She’s gone stock still, her face pressed against his shoulder and he closes his eyes and hopes like hell it leaves them alone.

The whole thing only lasts a couple of minutes, the smoke racing back and forth in front of the cave a few more times, swooping low over the water before it leaves just as quick as it came, the silence ringing in Sawyer's ears. 

He’s still got Juliet pushed up against the cave wall, his hands pressed against the rock on either side of her head. He can feel the sharp edges of the wall biting into his hand, and he’s pressing so hard he thinks his hands might be bleeding. Juliet’s shaking against him, her face buried in the crook of his neck. 

They stay like that for a while after the noises stop, neither one of them saying anything. 

After a few minutes of silence, he turns his head so he can whisper in her ear. “You okay?” he asks, trying to sound calmer than he feels. 

“Yeah,” she says, but her voice is kind of shaky. “You okay?” 

He just nods, her hair tickling his nose. 

She’s not moving at all, barely even feels like she’s breathing, and he really doubts that it’s going to come back for them, but he just feels completely terrified right now, the same feeling he got the very first time he heard that thing, out in the jungle in the dark. 

Even though Juliet’s still shaking against him, it’s comforting, her body warm and solid against his, so he takes a deep breath and doesn’t move, just stays there pressed close against her. 

After a few minutes, he feels her breathing change, start to get heavier and ragged, and when he looks at her, her eyes have gone dark, the pupils so dilated he can barely make out any blue around the black. And Sawyer’s probably misreading this whole situation, she’s probably still scared—he sure as shit is—but he brushes his lips against hers anyway. He can feel himself starting to get hard, despite the fact that his heart is still pounding with terror. He knows this is probably completely inappropriate, the way he’s pushing his body against hers while she’s so scared, but then Juliet’s snaking her hand under his shirt and dropping light kisses along his jaw line and she’s pressing her hips against his and he guesses maybe it’s not so bad. 

He pushes her shirt up over her head and she reaches down to help him take off his still-wet jeans. They’re both still half-dressed when he slides inside of her. She bites down hard on his shoulder, and he knows she’s trying to stay quiet, to not draw any attention to them being back there.

As she rocks her hips against his, she keeps whispering his name, over and over again, real quiet. It’s driving him kind of insane, how she’s saying it like it’s making her feel better, like he’s the only thing she needs in the whole world. Plus, she keeps looking right at him, her eyes clear and just so, so blue, and, Christ, he has to bite down on his lower lip to keep the noises he’s making to a minimum. That last thing he needs is for that thing to come back because he can’t control himself, but she just feels so amazing around him, warm and tight, and just. 

When she closes her eyes and gasps his name, her body shuddering all around him, that’s about as much as he can stand. He comes, his hips jerking uncontrollably against hers, his hand pressing so hard into the rocks behind her that he can feel the warm blood streaming over his palm. 

By the time he moves away from her, it’s almost completely dark out. It probably ain’t a great idea for the two of them to go traipsing around the jungle in the pitch black, but they gotta get back tonight because they both have work and if they don’t show up Horace’ll probably send out a damn search party looking for them. 

When they start the walk back, Juliet reaches out for his hand, threading her fingers through his. They hold hands the whole way, even though that makes walking through all the trees and underbrush more difficult.

It’s actually really peaceful right now, with the stars and the crickets and the way the air smells fresh and clean after the rain, but Sawyer can’t shake the feeling he had early today, the look of terror on Juliet’s face when they were in that cave. 

He keeps a firm hold on her hand as they walk and she’s holding on to him so tight it’s making the cuts on his palm from the cave wall sting a little. It actually makes him feel better somehow, makes him feel anchored and grounded and like, as long as neither one of them lets go, they’re both gonna be okay. 

**

** June **

In the middle of June, Horace asks Sawyer if he'd be willing to help him out with something over on Hydra Island. Sawyer ain't particularly interested, but construction on the Swan has started to pick up over the last few weeks and he figures anything that can distract him from that whole mess can't be too bad.

It’s not until later, when Sawyer’s packing up his things to go home for the day, that he thinks about the cages. About the polar bear he shot when he first got here, about fish biscuits and tasers and things he hasn’t thought about in, well. A long fucking time. Months and months.

He thinks that maybe he should have asked Horace exactly what project he was talking about before he agreed to head out there tomorrow.

When Sawyer gets home that night, he doesn’t say anything to Juliet about Horace’s visit to the security station. 

It ain’t like he’s trying to keep it from her, exactly, it’s just—they don’t got the best track record over there, him and her, so he figures it’s best not to rock the boat. Especially since he’s not even sure what’s going on over there. Hell, for all he knows, Horace is planning some kind of giant surprise party for Amy or something equally ridiculous. 

So he doesn’t say anything to Juliet about it. And, if he can’t quite look her in the eye when she talks to him, well, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything at all. 

*

Sawyer means to get up early, early enough so that he can shower and get dressed and get out of the house before Juliet wakes up. He realizes he’s being kind of insane about this whole Hydra thing, but just thinking about it makes him feel kind of sick.

But when he does wake up in the morning, it’s because Juliet’s pressing kisses against the side of his neck and sliding her hand down his body. 

He lays there for a few minutes, just enjoying the sensation, but when she moves so that she’s straddling him, he means to tell her he’s got to leave early today, that he doesn’t have time for this. But she’s got her hand inside his boxers, stroking him and instead of telling her to stop, he just kind of moans. 

When he opens his eyes, she’s smirking down at him and he pretty much forgets about anything other than the feel of her body against his. 

So he doesn’t tell her to stop, doesn’t tell her anything, just leans up to kiss her, running his hands over the smooth, warm skin of her back, sliding his hands down so he’s holding on to her hips. Not caring at all that he’s probably going to be late meeting Horace down at the dock.

Later, when she’s pulling on her boots for work, she looks up at him and smiles and asks if he wants her to stop by the security station during her lunch so they can hang out a little.

And he just smiles back at her and shakes his head. “Not today,” he says. “I gotta be over at the Swan.” The lie comes fast and easy, and she he guesses she buys it because she just shrugs and smiles at him. 

“Okay,” she says, and gives him a quick kiss. “I’ll you see tonight then.” 

He kisses her back and just feels like a complete and total asshole.

*

By the time they get over to Hydra Island, Horace still hasn’t said anything about why he needed Sawyer’s help, but Sawyer thinks he’s got a pretty good idea what’s going on over there. The thought gives him this horrible knot in his stomach and he just hopes like hell he’s wrong.

They walk deeper and deeper inland, the knot in Sawyer’s stomach getting bigger with every step. Somewhere up ahead, he can hear the pounding of hammers, the clank of metal on metal, and he's feeling more and more like he made the right decision by not telling Juliet was he was doing today. 

By the time they make it to the Hydra station, Sawyer already knows what to expect. But even so, seeing the half-built cages makes his stomach drop. 

There’s no way he’s going to talk to Juliet about this. No fucking way. 

There’s just...there’s some stuff they don’t ever talk about, and that’s just fine with him. As far as he’s concerned, their life started when the flashes stopped and the less time they spend dwelling on the shit that happened between them before that—shit that really doesn’t even matter—the better. 

He ends up spending pretty much the entire day over on the other island, helping build the polar bear cages. He even spends a few hours helping one of the electrical guys wire the damn food dispenser. 

The whole day he has that horrible knot in his stomach and he tries not to look around too much, to just focus on what he’s supposed to be doing with the wires and the bars, but he keeps catching things out of the corner of his eye that remind him of things he’s spent the better part of a year trying to forget. 

By the time he’s finally back in the barracks, walking home, he just wants to go to sleep and forget about every single second of today.

But when he gets home, Juliet’s sitting on the couch, not reading or anything, just sitting there completely still in that way she has. For just a few seconds, before she says anything to him, Sawyer feels guilty, more guilty than he ever has in his life. But then she looks right at him, her whole body still completely still and she says, “So. Did you have fun at Hydra Island today?” 

And, just like that, he doesn’t feel guilty any more. What he feels is pissed the fuck off. Did he have fun at Hydra? Is she fucking kidding him right now? "What the hell are you talkin' about?" he says, his teeth clenched. There's a muscle twitching in his jaw and he feels like he wants to hit something.

“You lied to me, James.” And she just so sounds disappointed and hurt that it pisses him off even more, if that’s possible.

“Yeah, well,” he says. “You tasered me and locked me in a cage like an animal, so. Now we’re even.”

For a second her eyes get all wide, and she looks like she’s just been punched. But then her face goes blank and still again, like she doesn't feel anything at all. “I’m sorry,” she says, in this voice like she’s not sorry at all. “Although, I’ve got to say,” she says, staring right at him, eyes cold, “it didn’t seem like you and Kate were having that terrible of a time in there.” 

It’s the first time either one of them have mentioned Kate in, well, in a long fucking time, and it completely shocks him into silence.

Juliet’s got this look on her face like she said something that she didn’t mean to, but she doesn’t take it back or apologize, and then they’re both just standing there glaring at each other and not saying anything.

And with the two of them just standing there like that, the house seems extraordinarily quiet, the silence making his ears ring, and he just can’t deal with this right now, so he storms out, slamming the door behind him. 

All he wants to do is take a fucking walk, get away from this stupid, yellow, Others-built house, but of course it’s storming, fat droplets of rain pouring down and splashing loudly on the sidewalk outside their house. 

So instead he ends up just pacing back and forth on the porch, feeling trapped and tense and so pissed off he wants to punch something, and he can’t even take a fucking walk because it’s raining and it’s dark and Juliet would probably just end up getting worried and upset. And, son of a bitch, he can’t believe the idea of Juliet—who’s pissed at him anyway and is the whole reason he's out here, feeling like complete shit—being upset is actually going to stop him from taking a goddamn walk. Being in a relationship is a lot of fucking work. 

He ends up just sitting on the porch steps, only half-sheltered from the rain, the legs of his jumpsuit getting soaked up to the knees. Sawyer stays out there for he doesn’t even know how long, long enough for the rain to stop and for most of the anger to drain out of his body. 

After a while, the front door opens and Juliet comes out to sit next to him on the steps, holding a glass in each hand. Her eyes look bright and red-rimmed, like maybe she’s been crying. She hands him one of the glasses, filled with something amber-colored that smells sweet and alcoholic. 

He takes a small sip, wincing a little at the sickly-sweet taste. “Rum?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at her.

She just shrugs and gives him a half-smile, the corner of her mouth turning up a little, like he said something funny. “Thought it’d be fitting,” she tells him wryly, not bothering to explain any further. 

Sawyer nods like he understands and she taps her glass against his and then takes a long drink, draining almost half of hers in one swallow. 

A few seconds later, he follows her lead, drinking his rum and not really saying anything. It’s been a while since he’s drank anything stronger than the Dharma beer—since Amy and Horace's wedding—and the alcohol burns his throat a little going down. 

After a few seconds, both of their glasses are empty, and Juliet rests her head against his shoulder and sighs, this sound like she’s just completely exhausted. 

Sawyer knows how she feels, turning his body a little so he can rest his chin against the top of her head, breathing in the clean, sweet smell of her hair. He considers trying to talk to her about it again, maybe even apologize for lying to her, but she's warm and comforting against him and he figures maybe it's best just to let things be. No point dwelling on things that don't matter anymore, mistakes it's too late for either one of them to fix.

They stay out there like that for a long, long time, staring out into the quiet stillness of the barracks and not saying anything at all.

**

** July **

The second Saturday in July, exactly a year to the day before his entire life is going to go to shit in a crappy little house in Alabama, Sawyer decides he’s not going to get out of bed. He tries not to think about what’s gonna happen to him in a year, but it’s hard to shake the idea that, halfway around the world, there’s some kid version of him just living his life, no idea what fucked up shit the world’s gonna throw at him a year from now. Sawyer tells himself to forget about it, what’s done is done and all that, but still. It’s goddamn depressing.

He wakes up early, early enough that it’s still dark outside, and he tries to think about anything other than the fact that it’s 1975 and he's still got a year to change things. If he wanted, he could probably ask Horace for a short leave of absence. Just a few weeks. Enough time to get back to the States, find his family, and put a bullet in his daddy’s brain before the man gets a chance to do it himself. 

Juliet’s still asleep next to him, her arm flung over his waist and her head resting heavy and comforting against his shoulder. 

Sawyer tries to go back to sleep, tries to close his eyes and concentrate on how Juliet feels pressed against him, just pretend like today is just like every other day. But he can’t do it. His mind is racing and his head hurts and he feels like his heart might beat right out of his chest, so he ends up just laying there, watching the room get brighter and the shadows move across the wall. 

By the time Juliet wakes up, the room is bathed in bright morning sunlight and Sawyer's pretty much decided he's gonna talk to Horace. It'd probably only take two weeks, max. Juliet could go with him and, after a quick stop in Jasper, the two of them could take a road trip or something, spend a few days out in the real world like normal people, not time-travellers from the future out to commit a little patricide.

He feels her eyes open against his chest, her eyelashes ghosting over his skin, and he presses a soft kiss on the top of her head. 

“Hi,” she says, looking up and smiling gently at him and, just like that, he knows he's not going to go back. Whatever happened, happened and all that shit. Besides, he knows that if the two of them leave here, they'll probably never come back.

“Hey,” he says, trying to smile back. 

“You okay?” she asks, stroking her fingers across his chest, right where his heart is.

Sawyer closes his eyes for just a few seconds, just long enough to get his bearings and make himself feel a little less like he’s about to scream. He wants to tell her that he’s fine, that he’s great, that they should get up and get dressed and get ready to face the day. But he ends up just shrugging, the movement making her head bump lightly against him. 

After a couple of minutes, Juliet presses her hand firmly against his chest and leans up to kiss him gently on the lips. She props her chin on his chest and stares right at him, her eyes wide and serious. 

“I think we should just stay home today," she says, her voice quiet. He swallows hard and Juliet trails a finger across his cheek. "I could use a day off."

For one absurd moment, Sawyer feels like he might cry. His chest feels kind of tight and heavy, but he just closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Yeah," he says, rubbing a hand across his eyes, trying to sound as normal as he can. "Yeah, that sounds good."

She smiles at him with something like pity, but doesn't actually say anything. Sawyer's almost insanely grateful for that.

They spend the whole day in bed, just laying next to each other, their bodies pressed as close together as possible, silent and still for hours and hours.

*

Once the day comes and goes, things go more or less back to normal and Sawyer feels like he breathe again.

He spends most of his days out at the security station, trying not to strangle Jerry and Phil. The construction on the Swan is in full swing, so he ends up going out there every couple of weeks, but he doesn't have to do much other than make sure the place is fully staffed with security guys. God forbid one of the Hostiles sneak through and discover their big Dharma secrets.

One afternoon, out towards the end of the month, he and Jin are out in the jungle doing a grid search when Sawyer thinks he hears something. It sounds like a dog barking and he’s almost managed to convince himself he’s just hallucinating or something when Jin stops dead in his tracks and looks over at him.

“Vincent?” Jin says and he sounds so desperately hopeful that it makes Sawyer feel a little sick. 

It’s ridiculous, Sawyer knows, the idea that the dog has just been living out in the jungle all this time. But, still. It might be him. Hell, anything's possible here on mystery fucking island, right? And if Vincent’s out there, maybe some more of their people are too. It’s almost hard for him to think about, after this long, but even so, he can’t quite give up hope, even after almost two years. 

He and Jin spend the entire afternoon out there—hours and hours crashing through the underbrush, calling Vincent’s name—and before they realize it, it’s starting to get dark, and Sawyer wants to go back, but he can see the look on Jin’s face, and, hell it ain’t like they don’t got flashlights, so he sighs and radios Miles at the security station and tells him to stop by and tell Juliet that Sawyer’s gonna be late coming home, make sure she doesn’t worry or nothing. 

“I’m actually on my way over to the motor pool to drop off one of the vans,” Miles says, his voice loud and static-filled over the walkie. “You want to just wait and talk to Juliet yourself, boss?”

“No,” Sawyer says, a little too quickly. He can feel Jin’s eyes on him, but he tells himself that it doesn’t matter. “No. Just let her know, would you, Enos?”

Miles agrees and Sawyer clicks off the walkie-talkie right away, just in case Miles calls back when he’s with Juliet. It’s just, he doesn’t want to have a whole discussion about this right now. Hell, it probably ain’t even Vincent they heard. It was probably just the wind or the trees or the damn smoke monster or something. Either way, he tells himself he doesn’t need to bother Juliet with it. 

Sawyer hates himself a little for how easy it is to convince himself of that.

*

He and Jin search the jungle for six hours. Six long, pointless fucking hours.

They keep hearing these noises, far away and echoing, and it sure as hell sounds like a dog, but they never find anything. Not one goddamn thing. 

By the time Sawyer decides they should pack it in, it’s after midnight and they’re both out of breath and dripping with sweat. Even though they haven’t heard anything for hours, Jin wants to keep looking. 

And it's not like Sawyer ain't sympathetic. He is. He knows that feeling, of trying to find the thing that you think will save you, the thing will get you back to the life you were supposed to live. But after six hours he’s exhausted and bored and just wants to get the hell out of the jungle and into his nice, clean Dharma bed with Juliet pressed up against him. 

After a few minutes of convincing, Jin agrees to go back to the barracks, but he’s got this look on his face that makes Sawyer’s chest hurt and, right then and there, he decides he’s never gonna give up on these ridiculous grid searches until they find the rest of their people. 

They’re out there somewhere, he knows. They’ve got to be. 

*

When he gets home that night, Juliet’s already in bed. There’s a light burning in the kitchen, and there’s a plate on the table covered in foil. He opens it and it’s just some chicken and rice, nothing fancy, but it gives him this ridiculously happy feeling, one that makes him wonder if he’s ever going to get to used this, being with someone who loves him in this simple, quiet way. 

He eats as fast as he can and then takes a quick shower. They were out in the jungle for a while and he smells pretty rank, his skin sticky with dirt and sweat. He stands under the water and turns his face into the spray, trying to force himself not to think about it. 

But he can't seem to turn his mind off, mostly because he’s pretty damn sure that it was Vincent that they heard out there. Three months he spent listening to that damn dog bark as it ran up and down the beach, and it’s not like the island is overrun with wild dogs or some shit. The truth is, he ain’t quite sure what to make of it, the idea that Vincent’s will out there somewhere. Hell, even if it was him, they didn’t find anything, so. Maybe it doesn’t matter at all.

When he slides into bed, Juliet's eyes blink open slowly and she makes a quiet, happy noise in the back of her throat, like she's really glad to see him. 

“Hey,” she says, giving him this soft smile that still, somehow, even after a year of this, makes his stomach flip.

“Hey yourself,” he whispers, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Everything go okay?” she asks, leaning into his hand. 

“Yeah,” he tells her quietly. “Everything went fine.”

“That’s good,” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep. Her eyes drift closed, but she’s still got that little smile on her face and it’s times like this he thinks he might drive himself crazy, wondering how he got so lucky. 

Sawyer leans forward, kisses her gently on the lips. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispers and she nods, moving her body over so that it’s pressed against his, her head tucked in the space between his shoulder and his throat, one of her arms thrown around his waist. 

She’s asleep again in no time, her breathing even and soft, and Sawyer lays there next to her for a while, just staring up at the ceiling, the feel of her against him making the tension from earlier—of all that confused hope hearing Vincent, that strange possibility that he might actually find some more of their people—just drain right out of him. 

*

When Sawyer finally wakes up the next morning, it’s late, the little white numbers on his Dharma alarm clock telling him it’s almost ten. He can hardly even remember the last time he slept this late. 

There’s bright mid-morning sunshine streaming in through the curtains and Juliet’s side of the bed is empty, the sheets rumpled and cold. The house smells like coffee and he can hear Juliet moving around in the kitchen so he throws on a pair of boxers and wanders out to the front of the house. 

Juliet’s sitting at the kitchen table, a plate of toast sitting in front of her. She’s dressed in kind of ratty clothes, faded jeans and this old gray t-shirt that’s got a rip in the sleeve, her hair done up in two neat braids and covered with a bandana. “What’s with the outfit, Pippi?” he asks, tugging gently on one of the braids and kissing her on the cheek.

“We’re helping Horace paint the infirmary today,” she tells him as he grabs a mug from the cabinet. “Remember?”

He groans because, shit, no he didn’t remember. Why the hell does he keep on volunteering to be so goddamn helpful all the time? He sighs heavily as he pours himself some coffee. “Fuck.” 

Juliet just smiles. “How’d last night go?” she asks once he sits down across from her.

He grabs a piece of toast off her plate and shrugs. “Same as always,” he says around a mouthful of crumbs. He’s making a mess on the table, bits of crust scattered in front of him. 

Juliet rolls her eyes and hands him her napkin. “So why were you guys out there so long?” she says, her voice so casual it makes him hesitate for a second. 

“Jin thought he heard a dog barking,” he says eventually, trying to match her tone. Casual for casual. Nothing to talk about here. “Figured maybe it was Vincent.”

“And was it?” she asks. She’s gone weirdly still, her eyes focused on the table in front of her.

“Who the hell knows,” he says, finishing off the toast and taking a long drink of coffee. It’s so hot it burns his tongue, but he keeps drinking anyway. “We didn’t find a goddamn thing. Same as always.” 

Juliet looks like she might say something else, but she doesn’t. Just gets up and puts her dishes in the sink, carefully looking anywhere but at him.

Sawyer stares at her for a second, but she doesn’t say anything else, so he just gets up an heads back to the bedroom. He takes a long time getting dressed for a day of manual labor, finally throwing on a pair of ripped jeans and a thin white undershirt, one that's already stained with paint from when Juliet decided they needed to redecorate the bathroom a few months before.

By the time he comes back out, Juliet’s sitting on the couch, waiting for him. She smiles easily at him when she sees him and they walk over to the infirmary together, talking about nothing at all in particular.

** 

** August **

A new batch of recruits shows up in August, which means Sawyer has to help Horace set up another damn welcome barbeque. He doesn’t quite understand the point of these things, but it gets him out of the security station for a few hours and there’s always free beer, so. It ain’t the worst thing that could happen. 

Usually, Juliet complains just as much as him about these damn things, but this time she goes with hardly any protest at all, the two of them walking over to rec room together, holding hands the whole way. It’s times like these when Sawyer can almost pretend they’re normal people and this whole thing is real and not just some insane, elaborate lie. 

When they get over to the party, the place is packed. Geronimo Jackson blares from the loudspeakers and there’s more people there than normal. August is just about the nicest month on this damn rock and it seems like every damn person in Dharma's packed into the rec room or milling around on the wide patch of grass out front. There’s dozens of new recruits in freshly pressed jumpsuits smiling nervously as they walk around with paper plates over flowing with Dharma brand hot dogs and baked beans. Looking at them, Sawyer feels weirdly old and out of place. 

He and Juliet don’t really bother trying to be social or friendly, just end up sitting next to each other on one of the crappy little wooden picnic benches outside, drinking warm Dharma beer and watching people laugh and joke and have the kind of fun that Sawyer’s always tried to avoid. 

The barbeque's a little rowdier than usual and after just a few minutes Sawyer realizes it's because of all the kids. Jesus, every new recruit must have brought at least two of them. He's about to say something to Juliet about it, make a crack about the D.I. starting to recruit younger and younger, but when he looks at her, she's got this expression on her face that he can't quite read. He just stares at her for a few beats before she turns to him and, shit, she looks like she's about to cry.

“You got any kids?” he asks, taking a sip of his beer and trying to sound casual. It’s a weird fucking question to ask someone you’ve been living with for a year and a half, but it ain’t like they sit around reminiscing about they’re pre-Island lives and she's looking at those kids like she's remembering something she's lost and, well. Sawyer knows there’s got to be a reason for that. 

Juliet looks over at him, eyes wide with surprise, he mouth moving like she’s trying to respond but doesn’t quite know how. “No,” she says eventually and doesn’t say anything else, just stares out into the distance and he can tell there’s else she wants to say. 

So he just sits silently next to her, waiting it out. Geronimo Jackson fades away and the sound of the BeeGees fills the barracks, the speakers crackling with static. 

“I have a nephew,” she says eventually. It’s not quite what he expected, but the way she says it tells him this is important. He looks over at her and she shakes her head a little, running a hand through her hair. “His name is Julian. I’ve never met him.” 

Sawyer nods, not sure what to say, but he knows this is important somehow. Even if a nephew doesn’t seem near the same level as having a kid of her own, the look on her face is just about the saddest thing he’s ever seen. He wishes he was better at this. 

“I got a daughter,” he blurts out a few minutes later. He ducks his head, feeling equal parts embarrassed and ashamed. “Her name’s Clementine.” 

Juliet just looks at him sidelong and takes a long drink of her beer. He can’t quite read the expression on her face. He doesn’t think she looks all that surprised that he’s telling her this, and he guesses she probably already knew, read it in some file years ago while he was busy eating fish biscuits and breaking rocks at gunpoint. It’s times like this her whole silent-Other thing drives him fucking crazy, but for some reason he feels like this is something he needs to say, something she needs to hear from him. 

“I ain’t never met her,” he says, like this is some kind of defense for him not telling her about this part of him up until now. Like the fact that he’s got a kid is somehow better if he’s a deadbeat who’s never even bothered to meet her. Jesus Christ, he's such a fucking asshole.

But Juliet just nods, doesn’t tell him he’s a shitty person, doesn’t say anything at all. 

A few yards away, Horace and Miles are trying to get a game of horseshoes going and Amy's pouring punch right inside the open door of the rec room and all around them kids and laughing and yelling.

After a few minutes later, Juliet lays her head on his shoulder and they sit there together, looking out across the fake-suburbia of the island and thinking about all the things they’ve lost and all the things they’ll never have.

*

They leave the barbeque after just a few hours, both of them completely trashed.

Sawyer can’t remember the last time he got this drunk on nothing but beer, and Juliet’s barely able to stand without him holding her up. 

They stumble across the barracks to their little yellow house and fall into bed together. Sawyer closes his eyes tight against the sunlight that’s streaming in the window, and Juliet makes this kind of groaning noise and buries her head under her pillow. 

When Sawyer wakes up, it’s dark in the room and Juliet’s running her hands lightly over his chest, tracing intricate patters on his skin. He blinks his eyes open and she smiles softly at him.

His head still feels kind of fuzzy from the alcohol he drank earlier and Juliet’s moving in this kind of loose-limbed way that tells him she’s probably still a little drunk, too. She keeps her hands moving on him and she leans over and kisses him, slow and gentle. 

They just stay like that for a while, kissing each other while Juliet’s hands move over his body, until she pushes herself up and straddles him, sliding down on to him with a gasp. His hips buck uncontrollably up against her and she stays completely still until he relaxes again before she starts to rock against him, slow and languid, almost silent, only occasionally making these quiet gasping noises as they move together.

He keeps his eyes open and hands on her hips the whole time, stroking her skin in gentle circles, and watching her move above him. 

There’s bright moonlight filtering in through the bedroom curtains and it makes her skin glow, pale and radiant and unbelievably beautiful.

When she comes, shuddering and tightening all around him, he goes right along with her, both of them shuddering and gasping for breath. She leans down and presses her forehead against the side of his neck and Sawyer can feel her heartbeat all through his body. 

After a few minutes, she moves off of him, He lays next to her and presses a kiss against her shoulder and brushes a hand across her stomach, his fingers stroking lightly against her pale, taut skin. 

“Do you ever think about it?” he says. He feels her tense next to him and he's not even really sure what he’s doing or why he’s doing it. It’s just, he’s drunk and he loves her and she just looked so sad earlier, watching all those little kids. 

“James,” she says. Her voice is barely a whisper, but he can still hear the warning in it, just below the surface, and her eyes have gone bright and glassy. 

Sawyer smiles a little at her, trying not to think too much about how sad she looks right now. “Yeah,” he says, brushing his thumb across her jawline, wiping away a tear that’s slipped down her cheek. “I know.”

Juliet closes her eyes and he kisses her gently on the side of her mouth, wishing like hell that things didn’t have to always be like this. 

**

** September **

The last week of September, Horace asks Sawyer if he wants to go off-island. Apparently, there’s some yearly Dharma meet-and-greet, where the bigwigs from the States travel to Tahiti and meet with some of the lowly island-folk to discuss research strategies and future plans for the island and some other damn things that Sawyer only half-listens to.

Usually Horace goes, but this year he says he’s not up for it. Him and Amy are still newlyweds and he’s got a lot of shit going on with the construction of the Swan and, well. Sawyer’s the next in line, if he’s interested. 

“Maybe you and Juliet would like to get away for a while,” Horace says and Sawyer has to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh out loud right there. Because of all the things he and Juliet would like to do, getting away from this goddamn rock is right at the top of his list. “Get back to the real world,” Horace continues, like this is just a normal conversation and not something that could change everything. 

“The real world,” Sawyer repeats, feeling a little like he’s been punched. He scrubs a hand across his face and tries to think of what he should say next. 

Luckily, Horace keeps going before he has to react at all. “Listen, Jim,” he says, reaching out and clasping Sawyer on the shoulder. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to go. Just talk it over with Juliet, okay? Let me know what you decide?”

Sawyer nods dumbly, standing there and blankly watching Horace leave. 

The door slams shut and he’s left just standing there like a moron, no idea what he’s going to tell Juliet about all of this.

*

Turns out, he doesn’t have to tell Juliet anything. 

When he gets home from his shift that night, Juliet’s sitting on the couch, reading _Carrie_ for what he guesses is probably the thousandth time, so right away he knows something’s wrong. She glances up at him and her eyes are red rimmed but dry and he figures it out all on his own.

“Amy got to you,” he says. It’s not a question. She nods and Sawyer sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “Horace talked to me today.”

Juliet tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and lays the book on the table in front of her, moving over on the sofa to give him a place to sit. “What’d you tell him?”

“I told him I’d talk to you about it first,” he says. He sits next to her on the couch, his hip nudging hers. Neither one of them say anything for a few minutes.

“So,” she says eventually, bumping her should against his. “What do you think?”

Sawyer looks over at her, not really sure what to say. The truth is, he’s just doesn’t know what to think. The idea of finally getting out of here, away from this godforsaken island even for a day or two, is so damn tempting it’s hard for him to think straight. But if they leave and everyone comes back…shit. The whole thing is just a goddamn mess.

“When I was fourteen,” he says instead of actually answering her question. “I decided to run away to Mexico.” Juliet looks over at him, her head tilted a little like she’s confused. “My uncle had just died,” he says. “And I needed to get out.” 

She quirks an eyebrow in question and he shrugs. “My uncle’s wife hated my guts,” he tells her. “Figured I’d do us both a favor.”

Juliet nods seriously, like this makes perfect sense.

“So I packed a bag, boosted a car, and made a break for it.” Sawyer smiles a little to himself. He can still feel it, that sense of absolute freedom that coursed through him when finally hit the open road. 

“So did you make it?” she asks. Sawyer looks over at her, a little afraid she’s making fun of him, but her bright blue eyes wide and serious.

For just a second, he thinks about saying, _Yeah, baby, I made it. Surfing. Tequila. Hot little mamacitas. The whole nine yards._ The kind of thing he would’ve said to her if he’d met her in the real world. If she’d been nothing to him but a mark. 

But he looks at her and she’s got this look on her face, a look like she’s actually interested in what happened to him back when he was just a stupid, fucked-up kid. “Nah,” he says and tries to smile at her, the muscles in his cheeks feeling stretched and tight. “Got pulled over by the cops before I even made it to Texas.” He shakes his head. Jesus Christ. He was such a goddamn idiot, thinking he could escape with a jacked car and three hundred dollars in cash. 

“What happened after that?” she says. 

“Cops took me back to Alabama,” he shrugs. “Lived with my aunt for a year or so before I dropped out of school and ran again.”

“Mexico?” she asks.

He laughs. “A trailer park in Arkansas.”

She doesn’t say anything to that and they’re quiet for a few minutes, long enough for him to think the conversation’s over. 

“I was supposed to go to Europe,” she says, surprising him a little. “The summer between college and med school.” 

He looks at her and she rolls her eyes, like telling him this is somehow embarrassing. “I’d always had this fantasy about going to Paris. Meeting a dark handsome stranger, and, I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “Hanging out at the Eiffel Tower, wearing a beret, riding a bicycle down the Champs-Élysées.” 

Sawyer smirks at her and she laughs a little, embarrassed. 

“It’s completely cliché, I know, but still,” she shrugs and turns her head to look out the window. “I was really looking forward to it.” Outside, the barracks are deserted, but she stares out there like the empty grass and sidewalks are the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.

“So what happened?” he asks, trying not to sound annoyed. It’s just--it’s obvious she’s not gonna say anything else, even though this feels like something important. 

She shrugs, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “My mom got sick and my sister was a mess and, well. Things don’t always work out like you planned.” 

Sawyer doesn’t really know what to say to that. _No shit_ seems a little rude, so he just sits quietly next to her, staring out the window at the dark emptiness outside. 

“Well,” he says after a few minutes. “It ain’t Paris, but I’m pretty sure they speak French in Tahiti.”

She looks at him and grins and he figures that means it's pretty much decided. 

**

** October **

The sub docks in Tahiti on the first Saturday in October. Sawyer follows Juliet up the ladder and out onto the dock and the two of them just stand there in silence for a few minutes, blinking into the bright clear sunlight and staring at all the people around them. It’s a gorgeous day—sunny and warm—and there are hundreds of people out there, in the street market by the docks. 

At first, Sawyer feels tense and unbalanced and weirdly exposed. It’s the same way he felt his first month out of prison. Like he was just waiting for someone to grab him and force him to go back. But then he looks over at Juliet, and she’s smiling easily at him and he forces himself to relax, to smile back at her and walk around with all these people, not a single one of them wearing a Dharma jumpsuit or carrying a rifle.

It’s easier than he expects, and by the time he and Juliet walk the half-mile to their Dharma-provided rental house, he feels more like a normal person than he has since they first started jumping through time.

*

The first week they’re there, Sawyer has to head into the center of town every day for meetings with the people from Ann Arbor. Even though it’s kind of a pain in the ass, the meetings really ain’t all that bad. Just him and a couple of science geeks trying to figure out how they’re going to get the more technical stuff for the Swan set up, how to transport it to the Island, shit like that. 

Truth is, he ain’t all that qualified for the job—most of what the scientists talk about just flies right over his head—and he spends a lot of time wondering why Horace decided to send him instead of Radzinsky or one of his guys from the science team.

The meetings only last for that first week, but the sub doesn’t come back until the middle of November, so they’ve got a few weeks to do pretty much whatever they want. Sawyer almost can’t wrap his head around it, the idea that him and Juliet have got a whole month to live out in the real world.

*

At night, they sleep next to each other on the lumpy mattress, naked and surrounded by cheap polyester sheets that don’t smell anything like the harsh detergent they have to use in Dharma. Sometimes, when it’s really late and the room’s dark except for the glare of the streetlights through the curtains, Sawyer thinks about them staying here forever. 

Most nights, they go out into the town for dinner, usually just eating Polynesian food at one of the crappy little outdoor cafés that are on every corner. He goes back to wearing jeans and t-shirts and Juliet takes to wearing these bright, flowing sundresses and these kind of ridiculously big sunglasses, her hair always pulled up in a messy knot on the top of her head. They hold hands when they walk through the streets, like normal people with normal lives, blending in with all the vacationing families and tourists and couples on their honeymoons. 

Juliet takes a lot of delight in hunting down new restaurants for them to try and she’s already picking up some French, quick enough that pretty soon she does almost all the talking when they’re out, conversing with waiters and shopkeepers, while Sawyer just stands back and watches her, every day wondering more and more why he ever wants to go back to the Island at all. 

After just a few days, Juliet loses that air of sadness that’s hung over since he’s known her and Sawyer pretty much forgets how fucked up their life really is and he starts to think that everything really will be okay.

*

On Juliet’s birthday, Sawyer goes into town alone, determined to find something for her. He’s taking her out to dinner tonight, but he wants to do something else, especially considering that he practically missed her birthday last year. There’s a big open-air market in the center of town and he goes there, figuring he’ll be able to find something good for the little bit of money he’s managed to save over the past few months.

He makes his way past the fruit stands and the ones selling random shells from the beach until he gets to the jewelry stands. He ain’t got much money, but he figures he can maybe get her a necklace or earrings or something. Hell, he doesn’t know. Even though the idea of jewelry seems pretty much as absurd as it did the last time he tried to get her a present, he figures at least this time they’ve got a few weeks left out here in the real world where she can wear it with something other than a damn jumpsuit.

The problem is, though, most of the stuff he finds is crap. Still, though, there are a few nice things and his eyes keep getting drawn to the rings at one of the booths in the back. 

There aren’t that many of them—just a couple sitting on an ugly red velvet pillow—and most of them just plain silver. But a few of them are nicer, decorated with small stones of some kind. There’s this one in particular that he really thinks Juliet would like, but when he asks the guy how much it is, it’s so far away from the little bit he’s got to spend it’s unbelievable. Fucking Dharma and its shit pay. This is why he never worked an honest job before.

Finally, after about an hour of going from booth to booth, looking at what feels like every damn piece of jewelry in the market, he finds something. It’s nothing fancy, just a thin silver chain with this kind of smooth green stone on it—jade, the lady who sells it to him says—but it’s simple and pretty and in his price range and he thinks it’ll look real pretty on her. 

*

When he gets home that night, Juliet’s sitting on their couch, watching a rugby match on TV. He’s got the necklace in a little brightly-colored paper bag that he doesn’t even try to hide from her.

“Hey there,” she says when he walks through the door. She’s smiling at him and looking happy and way too good for him and he seriously doesn’t know how he actually managed to land her. 

“Hey yourself, birthday girl,” he says, and she smiles even wider.

“So,” she says, standing up and walking over to him. “What’d you get me?” 

Sawyer smirks and swings the shopping bag a little. “What makes you think I got you somethin'?”

She laughs and wraps her arms around him, kissing him below his ear. He leans into her and she starts dropping kisses all along his neck, running her tongue lightly over his skin.

He slides his hands down her body, trailing his fingertips down along the bare skin of her stomach right below her shirt. 

After a few minutes, he’s breathing hard and he’s got one leg pressed up between hers, when she pulls away, smiling a little. 

“You should get ready,” she says, looking over at the clock over by the bed.

Sawyer groans and presses his body closer to hers. “Come on,” he says, his voice a little husky. “We got time.” 

He moves in to kiss her and she laughs a little, placing a hand lightly on his chest to stop him. “James,” she says. 

“Fine,” he sighs, stepping away from her. “I’m going.”

*

By the time he’s out of the shower and dressed in the nicest clothes he’s got, Juliet’s all dressed up for dinner and she looks unbelievable, her hair straight and shiny. She’s got on this black dress that he’s never seen her wear before and these strappy black shoes that make her legs look completely amazing. 

“Lookin’ good, Blondie,” he says, grinning. He’s got the necklace in his hand, hidden behind his back.

“Yeah, well,” she says, blushing a little and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He laughs a little at that and holds his hand out, the necklace looped around his index finger. Juliet just stares at it for a minute, at the way the stone twists and the silver glints in the light. “Happy Birthday.”

Juliet looks at the necklace and then back up at him, her whole face lit up with a smile. He’s not sure he’s ever seen her smile like that and it makes his stomach flip a little. She steps up next to him and kisses him, reaching up to cup his cheek in her hand. “Thank you,” she whispers against his mouth. “It’s beautiful.”

She turns around so her back’s to him and he loops the necklace around her neck, fumbling a little with the clasp. 

When she turns back around, she’s still beaming at him, this look on her face like this is the best night of her life. 

Sawyer grins back at her. He’s pretty sure he’s blushing, which is fucking embarrassing, but Juliet looks so damn happy it’s hard for him to care too much. 

*

The restaurant they go to ends up being pretty nice. Way nicer than anywhere they’ve been so far. There are cloth napkins and candles on all the tables and real china. Juliet’s wearing the necklace he got her and the whole night, he can’t take his eyes off her. 

All through dinner, she holds his hand under the table, smiling at him every chance she gets. They order a cheap bottle of wine and spend the whole night laughing and talking about nothing in particular and it’s pretty much the best night of Sawyer’s life. 

At the end of dinner, he arranges for the waiter to bring out her dessert with a sparkler in it and when she blows out the candle, closing her eyes to make a wish, he just watches her and grins, wishing like hell that this was actually their life.

*

There’s only one movie theatre in town, this run-down looking place just a few blocks from their house. 

Even though they’ve been there for a couple of weeks, they haven’t had a chance to go, but Juliet’s been talking about seeing something since they first got there and Sawyer figures her birthday is the perfect night to try it out. 

When they get there, they realize it only has one screen and the movie it’s showing is an old spaghetti western from the 60s. The place is hot and dusty and the print is old and out-of focus, the scratchy Italian dialogue dubbed with even scratchier French, but they buy two tickets anyway, both of them grinning like complete morons. 

It’s a week night so the place is pretty empty, but he and Juliet still end up sitting all the way in the back, as far as they can from anyone else. 

The movie starts and neither him or Juliet have got any idea what anyone’s saying, but it ain’t a complicated story and they end up just sitting there silently, side by side in the back row, holding hands like a couple of damn teenagers. 

By the time the movie’s over, Juliet’s got this look on her face like she’s never going to stop smiling. 

Outside, it’s gotten dark and the weather’s started to turn, heavy rain clouds hanging low in the sky and blocking out all the stars and most of the moonlight. But he can still make out Juliet next to him, the chain of the necklace he gave her shining brilliantly, even in the darkness. 

They’re halfway to their place when the sky finally opens up, rain pouring down on them in sheets. The dirt streets turn to mud, but Juliet’s wearing those insane heels so they can’t run. She clings tightly to his arm for balance as they make their way home, slipping and almost falling to the ground more than once. Every time she does, she tightens her grip on him and laughs a little and Sawyer almost can’t believe how great it is, being caught out here like this with her.

By the time they finally make it home, they’re both soaked to skin, shaking a little with cold and dripping water onto the ugly brown shag carpeting. 

Juliet’s dress is clinging to her like a second skin and there’s water making trails down her chest, moving enticingly down the swell of her breasts. Sawyer’s barely got the door closed by the time he’s running his hands under the hem of her dress, kissing along her jaw, her neck, moving his tongue along the lines of her throat.

Sawyer walks them back to the bedroom, trying to take off Juliet’s dress and his own clothes the whole way. By the time they finally manage to get back there, Juliet’s mostly undressed—just wearing her underwear and those amazing shoes—and he’s down to just his boxers. She goes to reach down to take off her shoes, but he stops her, grabbing her wrists and holding them tight. When she figures out what he wants, she just smirks at him and reaches back to unhook her bra.

He runs his hands up her body, and she pushes his boxers down off his hips, and then they’re both completely undressed, standing there, their skin touching everywhere it can. With her shoes on, Juliet’s exactly as tall as him, and he backs her up so they’re standing against the wall, her legs open around his hips. She’s only got to tilt her hips up a little so that he can slide into her, and he buries himself inside of her. Her skin is cold against his, but inside she’s so unbelievably hot and he cups his hands around her ass and thrusts hard enough into her that she cries out and bites down hard on his shoulder.

*

The rest of the month passes way too fast, the next few weeks just a blur of normal, real world domesticity. Sawyer's completely done with his Dharma responsibilities so they mostly just hang out at home or on the beach. Two weeks before they're scheduled to leave, the movie theatre gets a scratchy English-language print of _The Godfather_ and he and Juliet see it a total of five times, always sitting in the very last row and holding hands. 

The morning when they have to leave, Juliet’s quieter than normal, packing their stuff into their one suitcase and straightening up the house. 

She spends the last couple of hours sitting quietly on the couch, intently watching television. 

Sawyer puts off leaving as long as he can, stretching out their time here as long as possible. Finally, though, he knows they’ve got to go and he stands up and grabs their suitcase from the bed.

Juliet looks at him, her eyes wide and sad, and he walks over to her, trying not to feel like he’s ruining everything they’ve built here over the last few weeks. 

“Time to go,” he tells her, reaching for her hand. “You ready, sweetheart?”

She smiles a little and nods, holding his hand like it’s the only thing keeping her there. “Yeah,” she says, and she doesn’t sound nearly as sad as he thought she would. “I’m ready.”

**

** November **

Sawyer doesn’t really know what to expect, coming back—there's a part of him that thought maybe the island wouldn't be there when they got back. The thought was both exhilarating and horrifying, the possibility that they were free to do whatever the hell the wanted, be real people in the real world. But when they climb out of the sub, the island's still right there in front of them, as real as it's always been.

Miles comes up and hugs him when he sees him, holding him tight and pounding his back a few times. Sawyer puts up with it for a few seconds before he rolls his eyes and shoves him away, but he can feel himself smiling. It’s just good to see the guy is all. 

Jin’s a little more reserved, but he still smiles and gives Sawyer and Juliet long hugs and Sawyer almost can’t believe how good it feels to be back on that goddamned island, this feeling all throughout his body like he’s home. 

He’s a little worried about how Juliet will react, but she looks happy as she hugs Miles and Jin, smiling and laughing with the two of them and Sawyer starts to feel like maybe things are going to be better for the two of them from there on out.

*

They’ve only been back for a week when he comes home one day to find Juliet laying in bed, wrapped in the ugly brown quilt they keep draped over the back of the couch, her whole body shaking.

“Jules?” he says, rushing over to her, this horrible, horrible feeling in his gut. “Juliet?” He lays his hand against her cheek and almost recoils with how hot it is. 

She doesn’t answer, just makes this kind of low, pathetic noise—hell, it’s practically a whimper—and presses her face against his hand. Her skin is just so hot underneath his hand, and her whole face is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. 

“Shhh,” he says, running his hand up and down her back and pressing her as close to him as he can. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He’s babbling, he knows he is—he just called her baby for Christ’s sake—but he’s just got no fucking idea what to do. And it’s just—Christ. What’s wrong with her? Two years on this island and none of them have ever gotten sick. They’re on a damn magic island—they’re not supposed to get sick. But she is sick, there's no two ways about it. She’s still shaking and her hair is sticking to her skin with sweat and she’s mostly really pale, except her cheeks are flushed a bright, angry red. 

Finally, he just gives up trying to think of something and lays down next to her on the bed, trying to make her stop shaking, running his hands gently over her back, trying not to notice how damp her skin is, trying not to think too hard about what might be wrong with her, what might be making her like this. 

After what feels like forever, she stops shaking underneath his hand and her breathing mostly evens out. It’s still kind of heavy and labored, but he can tell she’s finally fallen asleep. Her face is still flushed and clammy, though, and Sawyer eases out of bed, trying not to disturb her. She sighs a little, but doesn’t wake up, so he sneaks out of the room as quick as he can, hoping like hell the doc is still out at the infirmary. 

*

By the time he manages to race over to the infirmary and back to the house, Juliet’s hardly moved and the doctor starts checking her out and Sawyer paces back and forth in their bedroom, biting on his thumbnail, feeling worse than he’s ever felt in his life. 

After what feels like forever, the doctor pats Juliet on the shoulder and motions for Sawyer to follow him out into the hall. Sawyer stands there while the doctor tells him that Juliet will be fine, that it’ll just be a few days and it’s nothing to worry about.

“Nothing to worry about,” Sawyer demands. “Did you see her in there?” Jesus, how can this idiot say it’s nothing to worry about? Juliet’s burning up and can barely move and Sawyer curses this idiot hippie commune with its idiot hippie doctors who know fuck-all about anything. 

“It happens sometimes,” the doctor says with a shrug, handing Sawyer a little bottle of pills. “People coming from off-island often come down with some kind of infection. We’re still not sure what it is, but it’s likely their immune systems need to readjust.” 

“Readjust?” Sawyer repeats, feeling irrationally angry. How the fuck can the guy be so calm when Juliet’s so sick. “What the hell does that mean? And what the hell are these?” he demands, holding up the pills

“Jim,” he says kindly, reaching out and putting hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. “They’re just antibiotics. And Juliet will be fine. Make sure she drinks lots of fluids and takes one of those pills every twelve hours, okay?”

Sawyer nods and clenches his fist around the yellow plastic pill bottle, feeling helpless. The doctor pats him on the shoulder again and heads out, leaving Sawyer in the living room, worried and alone.

*

The whole night, Sawyer doesn’t let himself sleep. He lays in bed next to Juliet and watches her toss and turn and any time he starts to drift off, he forces himself to snap awake. It's just—he wants to be ready in case she wakes up and needs something.

A little after three in the morning, Juliet groans and kicks the heavy quilt off of her. Sawyer watches her anxiously for a few minutes and feels relief flood through him when her eyes blink open. 

“Hey,” he says, smiling at her and brushing a strand of damp hair off of her forehead. 

She closes her eyes again and makes this quiet, miserable noise that goes right to his heart.

Sawyer sits there with her, stroking her hair and feeling completely useless. He knows he should probably make her take one of the pills the doc left, but he doesn’t want to disturb her if she wants to go back to sleep either. So he ends up just sitting there, waiting to see if she’s going to open her eyes again. After a few minutes she does, squinting a little into the light from the lamp next to the bed and looking completely miserable. 

“Hey baby,” he says. She frowns and leans into his hand, sighing.

“The doc came by to see you,” he tells her, stroking his thumb along her cheek. 

She smiles a little, still looking pained. “I remember.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, but he guesses the fact that she’s talking at all is a good sign. Her eyes are fever-bright and her skin is still flushed and pink.

“He said you’re gonna be fine,” he tells her, trying to sound reassuring. “You just gotta choke down one of these pills every few hours. You okay with that?” She nods a little and he reaches over for the pill bottle on the table and shakes one out into his hand. There’s a glass of water on the bed that he poured right after the doctor left, and it’s gotten a little warm, but he figures it’s better than nothing. 

He helps her sit up and hands her the pill and the water glass, watching anxiously as she swallows the pill and takes a long drink of water. 

“Thank you,” she manages, handing him the half-empty glass. 

“No problem, sunshine.” He fluffs the pillow for her and smoothes out the sheets, tucking them around her when she lays back down. “You need anything else?”

She shakes her head a little. “No,” she mumbles. “Just, stay here with me?”

Sawyer nods and reaches over to click off the lamp, laying down next to her and holding her close. He stays awake, rubbing her back gently until he feels her fall asleep again. By the time he manages to nod off, it’s after dawn and Juliet’s stopped shaking next to him. 

*

It takes an entire week before Juliet’s better. For the most part, she’s not too bad at being a sick person, but he guesses maybe it’s hard to take the doctor out of the girl, and by the end of the week Sawyer’s nerves are completely frayed. 

He spends the better part of the week worrying she’s gonna die and the last few days trying not to strangle her. 

While she’s at her sickest, she mostly just sleeps and lays in bed. Sawyer spends those three days being supportive and caring and doing everything he can to help her get better. Giving her medicine and making her canned Dharma chicken soup and holding cold washcloths against the back of her neck when she’s hot with fever. It’s strangely comforting, taking care of her like that, being the one to make sure that everything’s okay.

But by day four, that’s all over and she’s driving Sawyer nuts. 

Once she’s started to feel a little better, the whole doctor part of her seems to take over and she’s pretty much the worst patient in the world. Even though she’s still flushed with a low fever—her eyes glassy and a thin sheen of sweat clinging to her forehead—she insists that she’s fine and decides she’s ready to go back to work. 

For the next three days, Sawyer has to nag her to take her medicine and beg her to get more sleep. Even though it’s irritating as hell he can’t help but be grateful that she’s getting back to her normal, pain-in-the-ass self. 

**

 **December**

Sawyer’s pretty sure he’ll never get used to summer in December. The whole month, the weather is hot and sticky and miserable and it seems like everyone in the damn compound is cranky and short-tempered because of the heat. Plus, it’s been raining everyday for almost two damn weeks and even though it ain’t rained yet tonight, the air’s still thick and static-filled, like the sky’s gonna open up at any time.

When he gets home, feeling slightly thankful that he made it across the barracks before the storm came on, the house is dark and closed up tight. Juliet’s normally home before him, but he doesn’t worry too much about it. Horace has been on everyone’s ass lately, trying to get everything in order before the new year starts, so Sawyer figures maybe the motor pool just got the brunt of it today. 

So he cooks dinner and waits, but when she’s still not home by the time it’s dark—more than two hours after her normal quitting time—he starts to get a little worried. Even though her being sick last month turned out to be no big deal, the whole situation still has him a little on edge. Just, the possibility that something could happen to her—that she could be gone for good—has been weighing on his mind something awful. It’s probably stupid to worry, but he can’t seem to help himself. He waits another five minutes before he gives up the pretense and changes out of his jumpsuit and into a pair of jeans and an old white t-shirt and makes his way across the barracks. 

The weather’s still terrible when he gets outside—the clouds hanging low in the dark sky—and he can’t help but think it’s some kind of bad sign; ominous storms and all that shit.

When he gets over the motor pool, there’s a light burning in one of the garages and he can hear the clinking of tools and what he thinks might be Juliet’s voice, though it’s so low it’s hard to tell. 

There’s a blue Dharma van parked over in the last stall and Sawyer can just see Juliet’s jumpsuit-clad legs peeking out from underneath it. She’s talking to herself and making all kinds of noises and she bangs on something under the van. He makes his way over to the end of the garage, stepping over piles of grease-stained rags and tools he’s got no idea the name of, feeling almost absurdly relieved that she’s here and she’s okay.

Sawyer smiles to himself and leans down next to where she’s laying on the mechanic’s creeper, still banging around under the van. 

“Hey there, sunshine,” he says, reaching out to put a hand on her knee. 

Her leg jerks under his hand and he hears a dull thud—a noise he’s pretty sure is Juliet banging her head on the underside of the van—and then something clatters loudly to the cement floor under the van. “Son of a bitch!” she yells, pushing herself out from under the van. 

Sawyer springs back, standing up and feeling like a total idiot.

Once Juliet’s out, she sits up and glares at him. Her face is covered in smudges of black engine grease and she’s got what looks like the beginnings of a pretty good knot on her forehead. 

“Jesus, James,” she says, sounding pissed. “You scared the hell out of me!” She glares at him and rubs gently at her forehead. It’s started turning an ugly shade of red, but at least it ain’t bleeding. 

“Sorry, Blondie.” He leans in close to her and pulls her hand away, kissing her gently right where the bruise is starting to form. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, but she still sounds pretty pissed and her eyes are watering a little. 

Sawyer smiles a little in apology and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry,” he says again. “I was just comin’ down here to check on you.”

Juliet pulls away from him and gives him a dirty look. Which, what the hell? It ain’t his fault she’s working late. 

“Phil dropped off the van ten minutes before five,” she tells him, yanking off her work gloves and throwing them down on one of the work benches. “Said that Mr. LaFleur needed it ready first thing tomorrow.”

“Hey now,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t tell Phil any such thing.”

Juliet narrows her eyes at him and glares like she doesn’t believe a word he’s saying. Outside, there’s a loud crack of thunder and the rain starts to pour down in sheets, splashing into the open bay of the garage.

“Wonderful,” Juliet sighs, giving him a dirty look. 

“Hey,” he says. “This ain’t my fault.”

Juliet just rolls her eyes and starts rummaging around on one of the work benches, banging around wrenches and hammers and who the hell knows what. 

Sawyer rolls his eyes and reaches out, gently grabbing her arm. “Come on, Jules,” he says, trying to sound as soothing as possible. It ain’t often that he’s the calm one and he’d be lying if he didn’t say he enjoyed it a little bit. 

She jerks her arm out of his grasp and turns to stare at the storm outside. “Listen,” he says, “I’ll kick Phil’s ass first thing tomorrow morning for lyin’ to you.” 

She makes a little scoffing noise, still kind of glaring at him, but one corner of her mouth turns up in an almost-smile and he can tell she’s softening.

He takes a step closer to her and reaches up toy with the zipper on her jumpsuit, pulling it down a little to expose the thin white tank top she’s wearing underneath. She rolls her eyes, but leans into him a little, so he figures she pretty much done being mad at him. 

She slides her arms around his back and he tugs the zipper down all the way, pushing the rough fabric down off her shoulders. 

She takes a step closer to him, pressing her hips against his and he smiles and leans in to kiss her. 

Pressed up against an old Volkswagen van turns out not to be the most comfortable position there is and, by the time they’re both half-undressed, Sawyer feels like he’s going to have one hell of a bruise on his back from the damn door handle. When Juliet slides her hand underneath his boxers, he jerks back against the door. The metal from the door handle digs into his spine and he gasps in pain, and pushes her away. He glances up at her and she’s got this hurt look on her face. 

Without saying anything, he gives her a soft smile and turns around, wrenching the door open, taking a step up until he’s inside the van. Juliet smirks at him and follows him inside, pushing him gently back onto the ugly, scratchy beige upholstery of the bench seat. 

Sawyer leans back, laying on the uncomfortable seat. Juliet kneels over him and he moves his hand up to hold her, his palms pressed against her hipbones. 

Both of them are still half-dressed and the fabric of their clothes is creating this almost unbearable friction. He thrusts against her and Juliet reaches down, pushing his jeans down his thighs as she starts to wriggle out of her jumpsuit. 

When he slides inside of her, he makes this embarrassingly loud moaning noise, but he’s pretty much past the point of caring. Juliet pulls back a little and smirks, holding one finger to her lips to signal for him to be quiet. He ignores her, thrusting into her harder and harder, not caring at all if someone hears them.

*

They agree to skip the whole Christmas thing this year, deciding it’s more trouble than it’s worth trying to get presents ordered from the sub. 

It’s weird, though, not celebrating at all, so they end up inviting Jin and Miles over. Horace gave all the security guys bottles of Dharma rum for Christmas and the four of them hang out and get drunk. 

Like the rest of the motor pool, Juliet ended up with a new set of socket wrenches instead of liquor, so she don’t got any alcohol to contribute, but she makes dinner for everyone and Jin and Miles agree to call it even.

*

By midnight, both Jin and Miles have passed out on the couch, both of them snoring loudly. Miles has got his head leaning on Jin’s shoulder and Sawyer kind of wishes he had a camera so he could take a picture. It’d make for pretty amazing blackmail material.

He’s just standing there smirking at them when Juliet comes up next to him and nods her head towards the front door, motioning for him to follow her outside. She’s got a half-full bottle of rum in her hand and the two of them end up sitting on the porch steps, passing the last bit of rum between them, drinking right out of the bottle. 

“It’ll be 1976 soon,” he says after a few minutes, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye to see if she gets what he’s talking about. 

“Yeah,” she says, laying a hand on his thigh. “I know.” And the way she says it, he knows she knows what he’s talking about. They ain’t ever really talked about it—at least not directly—but he’s drunk and for some reason he can’t stop thinking about it.

“What do you think would happen?” he says. “If…” He trails off, embarrassed by how choked his voice sounds. Like he might cry or something equally ridiculous. 

Juliet looks at him this look of complete pity on her face. “I don’t know, James,” she says. He nods and she moves so she’s sitting closer to him, their bodies pressed together from their shoulders all the way down to their knees. Neither one of them say anything for a while after that, just sit next to each other, staring out into the dark emptiness of Christmas in Dharmaville. 

“I killed him you know,” he says, when he gets to feeling like the silence might drive him insane. There’s just a little rum left in the bottle and he tips it almost completely upside down to drink the last few swallows.

“You killed who?” Juliet asks, confused. Her forehead is creased with worry and she’s got an expression on her face like she’s maybe missed a step. 

“Locke’s dad,” he tells her, setting the empty bottle down on the porch next to him with a hollow thud. “Dear Mr. Sawyer…”

Juliet looks over at him, nonplussed. “What?” she says, and she sounds completely sober even though she’s had at least a half bottle of rum tonight. “Locke’s father was Sawyer? Your Sawyer?”

He nods and looks out into the dark of the barracks, trying to keep his eyes focused. “Life’s funny, ain’t it?”

“And you killed him?” Juliet says, sounding more confused than he’s ever heard her. “When?”

“About a week before we started jumpin’ through time,” he says matter-of-factly. A little part of him—the part of him that's still the old him, he guesses—takes a kind of sick pleasure in the knowledge that she don’t know all his secrets. “Strangled him with a chain in the Black Rock while Locke waited outside.”

“Oh,” she says faintly. He looks over and she’s got a look on her face like she doesn’t understand any of this. Sawyer wonders if it’d be possible for him to hate himself any more than he does at this moment. They sit there in silence for a while and Sawyer takes a few deep breaths, tries to stop the world from spinning.

“Did it help?” she asks eventually, and when he looks over, she’s staring back at him steadily. 

And, shit, all of the sudden Sawyer realizes what he’s saying, how Juliet’s looking at him as he tells her he murdered an old man just a couple of months before she and him got together, and he feels suddenly, absurdly like he might cry. 

“Not really,” he finally says, trying to sound casual. He scrubs a hand across his face and swallows hard, wondering what in the hell he’s doing. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, reaching over and taking his hand in hers, twining their fingers together. When he glances at her, she’s looking at him in this way that makes his chest tight. She doesn’t ask him to explain it or tell him he’s a terrible person or anything at all and he has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from crying. The whole situation is so pathetic and absurd he can’t hardly stand it. 

After he doesn’t know how long, she stands up, tugging a little on his hand. He follows her inside and they walk quietly back to their bedroom, careful not to wake up Jin and Miles. 

Once they’re in their room, Juliet closes the door softly behind them, quietly turning the lock. 

Sawyer stands dumbly next to the bed, still feeling kind of terrible. Drunk and sad and about a million other things he’s not sober enough to identify right then. 

Juliet walks over to him and pushes him gently down on to the bed, so he’s sitting right on the edge. She reaches down and tugs at the hem of his shirt and he helps her pull it up over his head. 

She runs her hands down his chest and he reaches out to put his hands around her waist, noticing how dark and rough his skin looks next to the smooth, cool white of hers. They just stay like that for a few minutes, just touching each other, before Juliet moves so she’s kneeling over him, her knees bracketing his hips. She leans down to kiss him, running her tongue along his lower lip until he opens his mouth under her hers. Her hands are pressed steadily against his chest and he reaches down to push her t-shirt over her head, keeping his eyes open so he can watch her move above him. 

She’s being so gentle with him, running her hands lightly over his skin, kissing him slow and sweet. And he knows she’s doing it to make him feel better, but it just—it just makes him feel worse, somehow. 

He leans back and looks at her and the way she’s looking at him makes his chest hurt and pisses him off, all at the same time. He puts his hand around her waist, pressing hard against the bone-white skin of her hips and she reaches down to unbutton his jeans, leaning down so that her lips brush against his ear. 

He’s a terrible person, never done a good thing in his life, and he just got done telling her one of the worst things he’s ever done, and he doesn’t understand how she can be like this with him. Treating him like he matters, like he’s worth anything at all. He jerks his hips against her and bites hard on her lower lip, trying to show her what he is. But she doesn’t react, just keeps doing what she’s doing, touching him so slow and gentle, these glancing, caring touches all over his body. He pushes against her insistently, a lot rougher than he should, and she pulls back just a little, putting one hand against his chest. 

“James,” she says, still holding him down gently. "Stop." She waits until he stops pushing up against her to lean down and whisper in his ear. “I love you.” 

She runs her hand gently along his face and he feels a lump form in his throat. His eyes start burning a little and he thinks that if he starts crying he’ll never forgive her. The two of them just stay like that for a few minutes, half-naked and pressed close together, not doing anything. Sawyer takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, forcing himself to relax, to calm down, to stop acting like such a fucking psycho. 

When he opens his eyes, Juliet’s looking at him seriously and he almost can’t believe how much he loves her. 

“I love you,” she says again, and this time he smiles a little, like he means it. Juliet pushes his boxers down off his hips and takes him in her hand and he shuts his eyes and concentrates on how she feels, on how much he loves her, on anything other than the year that’s looming ahead of him.


End file.
